


Choices

by merlinusambrosius



Category: Arthurian Mythology & Related Fandoms
Genre: Arthurian Gift Exchange, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 17:52:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/827132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merlinusambrosius/pseuds/merlinusambrosius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gawain is injured while out questing with his uncle, and Arthur must make a choice - one which could change the history of Camelot forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choices

**Author's Note:**

> -> Written for Round One of the Arthurian Gift Exchange as a gift to tumblr user maeglinthebold. The work has been beta'd by gunmetal-skies on tumblr, any remaining mistakes are my own.

“We leave at first light, Sir Gawain,” said Arthur. It was times like these when it didn’t matter that Gawain was his nephew. No, right now Arthur was the king, and Gawain was his knight.

“I will be there, my lord,” Gawain stated.

“I wouldn’t expect anything different.” Arthur smiled slightly. It was hardly noticeable, unless one were watching him intently.

“Was that all, my lord?” Gawain asked.

“Yes, you may leave now, Sir Gawain.”

 

“Good morning, my lord.” Gawain said cheerfully. 

“Good morning, Sir Gawain.” Arthur smiled at him. “Is your horse ready yet?” he asked. 

“Yes, my lord.” Gawain nodded. “And so is yours.”

“Excellent.”

Guinevere walked out of the castle. “Be safe, my lord.” She smiled and grasped Arthur’s arm.

Arthur kissed his wife. “I will be safe, and I will keep Sir Gawain safe as well.” He held her hand. “You can be sure of it, my lady.” 

It wasn’t too long after that that the two men rode outside the town borders.

“Where are we headed?” Gawain asked as he dismounted. Arthur did the same shortly afterwards. “We have to go through the perilous woods, towards Dead Man’s cave,” Arthur told him as he looked at the crooked map he had brought with him.

“How will we continue then, my lord?” Gawain asked.

“There should be an entrance into the castle inside the cave, but I’m not sure where it is located. Let’s go,” He added with a smile. The two men got back on their horses and rode into the woods. The sun was burning brightly, but they could hardly see it through the trees.

“Now tell me, nephew,” Arthur grinned slightly, “how have you been?”

Gawain looked at his uncle, smiling, and stated: “I have been good.” He let out a small sigh. “I do miss my mother at times.” He looked down for a moment. 

“Then I shall invite her to come to Camelot.” Gawain was surprised. He had been aware of the events that took place between Arthur and Morgause for quite some time now, and he also knew that the king liked to avoid Morgause because of it. This invitation was, therefore, rather special.

They rode in silence for a while after that, until Gawain asked what everyone in the kingdom wanted to know: “Is the queen with child yet?” He asked it shyly, scared that he would anger his uncle.

Arthur shook his head. “The physician fears that she is barren.” He let out a sigh. “But I have hopes that she is not.”

Gawain looked confused. “Is there a way to cure her, then?” he asked.

“It wasn’t something I was aware of for a long time, until the Lady of the Lake told me about this cup inside the castle of the long-deceased Sir Hengist,” Arthur explained.

“Which is why we are headed there?”

“It is,” Arthur said softly. It made him seem so vulnerable. To be honest, it surprised Gawain. He had always thought of his uncle as a strong man; an unbreakable man.

Arthur looked up at the sky. “I think we should stop and make camp for the night, nephew.” He frowned. He would’ve liked to travel further, but he knew the night would fall soon and he didn’t want to endanger his nephew. Queen Morgause would have his head if her son was hurt. It didn’t matter that Arthur was the high king, Morgause always got away with things. Even if the thing was murder, she was that good.

The pair got off their horses and sat down for a moment. “If you gather some wood for the fire, I will look for some food,” Arthur stated.

“Alright, my lord.” It was times like these that there seemed to be a distance between him and his uncle. Gawain didn’t mind, however. His uncle was a good king, and he would always obey a good king. It didn’t matter that they were related right now anyway; a camp needed to be made. “I will head east,” Gawain said, and he started walking deeper into the woods.

It was already getting quite dark in the woods. Gawain could hardly see his own feet, and this alone made him a bit uncomfortable. Something was off about the forest, too. Gawain could sense it. It felt chillier than it should have felt in the summer, and it was as if he could hear children screaming in horror. There shouldn’t be any children here. Gawain knew their parents wouldn’t let them into the perilous woods. No one in their right mind would come here unless they absolutely had to.

Gawain wanted to get back to the horses as fast as he could. He drew his sword when he heard yet another noise. Suddenly, a woman stood before him. “What is it that you seek, Sir Knight?” The woman smiled. 

“That which I will not discuss with a stranger, woman.”

“Fine with me.” Then she muttered a curse and everything went black.

“Gawain?” Arthur called loudly, but he got no response. It had been awhile since his nephew went deeper into the forest to gather some wood. It worried him. His sister was definitely going to kill him. “Gawain?” The king called out again. When he still received no response, he decided to head east, as Gawain had done.

“Gawain!” Arthur kept calling his nephew’s name as he walked. He grew more and more worried. The forest was giving him chills, and he could barely see anything. Arthur sensed something was off. There must have been, else Gawain wouldn’t have just disappeared like that.

After some time, he spotted a body on the ground. Arthur knelt down beside it and saw that it was his nephew. He checked to see if the knight was still breathing. “Gawain?” He called. Gawain did not reply. He attempted to pull Gawain up so he could take him to the camp, but realised Gawain was too heavy for him to carry alone.

The witch looked at the king of Camelot and Sir Gawain. She meant to test them, to let them prove that they were worthy of their titles. Only then could they finish their quest. The most important part was that the two would work together. A king and a knight. An uncle and a nephew. A friend and a friend.

“Arthur Pendragon of Camelot,” The witch spoke.“I have come to test you and your nephew.” She held her head high in the air.

“Is this your doing, woman?” Arthur asked, aggravated, and looked at his nephew’s body.

The witch laughed. “Who knows, my child.” She looked down at Gawain with a smile on her face. 

“Give me a proper answer; I am the bloody king of the land.” Arthur stomped his foot. 

The witch laughed again. “And I am the goddess of this forest,” she smiled, “and you shall not pass through it until you pass my test.”

“What is your test?” Arthur asked, distressed.

“That would be spoiling you,” the witch said. She muttered a spell and disappeared. Moments later, Gawain awoke.

“Gawain, you’re awake.” Arthur exclaimed in relief. 

“What?” Gawain looked slightly confused.

“The witch knocked you out,” Arthur said. “At least, I think that’s what she did.” His expression was difficult to describe.

“Oh, that, yeah,” Gawain said, still confused.

“You don’t remember?”

Gawain stood up. “No. I mean, this forest is creepy so it doesn’t surprise me, but I don’t remember anything at all. I just went to get some wood.” It was his turn to give Arthur a perplexed look. “Is there a problem, then?” he asked.

“She’s testing us,” Arthur explained, “and if we fail, we won’t be able to fulfil our quest. And this quest is quite important.”

Gawain smiled, understanding his uncle’s worries.

“Well, let’s gather some wood and head back to the horses,” Arthur said, wanting to show that he was, in fact, a leader.

“Yes, my lord.”

“Can you make a fire, Sir Gawain?” Arthur asked, and once again there was distance between the two men.

“Of course, my lord,” Gawain said, and started working on it right away. Arthur sat down and looked at the sky worriedly. He needed to fulfil this quest and get Gawain home safely. He also knew that he would have to face the tests the witch gave them, even if it cost him his life. Gawain would be a worthy heir, Arthur thought to himself, if he could not have a legitimate son of his own. Mordred was a good boy; Arthur knew that very well, and it pained him that his son could not be the king. It was simply too shameful to have him as an heir, even if the scandalous events surrounding his birth had been Arthur’s fault.

“The fire is finished, my lord,” Gawain announced, and sat down opposite of Arthur.

“Well done, Sir Gawain.” Arthur was, however, still thinking about who would have to rule Camelot when he died.

Gawain noticed the worried look on his king’s face. “Is there something bothering you, my lord?” he asked.

“I have no heir to the throne.” Arthur sighed deeply. “If the queen doesn’t bear a child, I will have to find someone else.”

“Would Mordred not be suitable for it?” Gawain asked, wanting a favour for his younger brother.

“The people would look down upon him,” Arthur sighed again, “which is a pity because he would make a good king.” He looked down.

“A pity indeed,” Gawain said, and looked down as well. He really thought it was unfair for his brother. The boy was a good leader; a good fighter. Yet all people bothered to learn about him was the fact that he was a bastard.

Suddenly, there was a heavy wind that blew out the fire. Arthur was quick to realise this must be another test and grabbed his sword. “Show yourself!” he called out. The wind stopped blowing and the witch was there once again. She smiled at the men.

“Your first task is to solve this riddle: Time was when I was weapon and warrior; now the young hero hoods me with gold and twisted silver. At times, men kiss me. At times, I speak and summon to battle loyal companions. At times, a courser bears me o’er marchland. At times, a ship bears me o’er the billows, brightly adorned. At times, a fair maiden fills me with breath; at times, hard and headless, I lie on the board, bereft of beauty. At times, I hang winsome on the wall, richly embellished, where revellers drink. At times, a warrior bears me on a horse, a battle adornment, and I swallow, bright-shining, the breath from his bosom. At times, with my strains I summon the heroes proudly to wine. At times, I win back spoil from the spoiler with sounding voice, and put foemen to flight. Now ask what I’m called.” The witch smiled at the men. “Well?” she asked. 

Gawain and Arthur were deep in thought. Arthur let his sword drop, figuring this was harmless. Gawain repeated the riddle softly, hoping the answer would come to him. “I remember it,” he said finally, “I believe queen Morgana used to recite it to me.”

“What do all of those things have in common?” The witch hinted, and looked at Gawain with a smile. It became obvious to Arthur that she wanted Gawain to answer.

“I remember!” Gawain exclaimed. “It’s a horn.” He smiled widely. 

The witch smiled as well. “You have passed your first test, but remember: what’s to come will be a lot harder than this.” Then she disappeared once more.

“Well done, Nephew.” Arthur patted Gawain’s back.

“No time for titles now?” Gawain joked.

“Not right now.” Arthur smiled relieved

Gawain smiled back at his uncle. “I wonder what the next test will be.”

“So do I.” Arthur let out a deep breath, but he still looked happy. At least they had gotten through the first part all right. The witch had, however, said that the next parts of her test would be harder, and Arthur didn’t dare to doubt her. She hadn’t lied the first round, so why would she lie now?

“You should get some sleep, Nephew.” Arthur smiled tiredly at Gawain. He was feeling oddly kind today. Perhaps it was the fear that made him this way. That made sense to him. Fear made him lose his sense of audacity.

“Are you sure you want the first watch, Uncle?” Gawain asked for the third time.

“Yes, it’s fine, you should sleep.” A king should be kind, he thought, not vulnerable. This behaviour made him vulnerable, though. This quest, too. As did the witch’s tests, in a way. It worried Arthur. He would definitely have to do some serious thinking once they were back in Camelot. If Arthur made it back to Camelot, that was.

Gawain went to sleep, leaving Arthur alone with his thoughts. He wasn’t sure he could finish this quest. He didn’t know if he should go on, anyway. Yet he also knew that he needed an heir, and this quest was his last hope of having an heir of his own blood. Of course, he could have gotten rid of Guinevere and found himself another queen, but he had realised a long time ago that he loved her too much to do such a thing. He couldn’t picture himself with another . There’d been Morgause, of course, but that had never lasted long. Especially when he had found out who she was.

Arthur kicked a tiny rock, almost hoping the witch would turn up again. He wondered how many tests she had left for them. He figured that maybe these tests were to prove that Gawain was a great and worthy heir to the throne. He had all the qualities that Mordred had, but he was not a bastard. 

Yet Arthur wondered if he could do that to his son. How cruel would it be to let his brother rule and not him, when Gawain was not of Pendragon blood? This was why he needed Guinevere to get with child, so that that situation could be avoided.

Soon it was Gawain’s turn to keep watch. Arthur went to sleep, although he was still troubled. Gawain tried to keep the fire going and had his sword by his side, so that if anything should happen he’d be quick to act. The thought was a bit silly, because he, Arthur, and the witch were the only ones in the forest, and she wouldn’t hurt them. He was sure of it. He had already figured out that she just wanted them to succeed at her tests. He wondered what her next one would be. She had informed them that it would be harder than the first one, which made sense because that’s what usually happened.

Morning came, and the witch hadn’t been there all night. Gawain wondered when she would come and woke Arthur. “We need to get some food, my lord,” he stated.

“Yes we do, Sir Gawain.” The titles made things easier sometimes for Gawain, took away any emotional bond they had. It made him forget how unfair things were for his little brother. Titles were safe.

“I think it’s wisest to just set some traps, my lord.”

“I think it’s the only choice we have. We didn’t bring much hunting gear,” he added, even though they both already knew that was the case.

Arthur set up the trap while Gawain collected some berries. He knew exactly which ones he could and could not eat, as his mother and his aunt had taught him. He was so much closer to them than he let himself be with Arthur, and sometimes it pained him. Loyalty was a tricky thing sometimes. He was loyal to Arthur, but also wanted to be loyal to his brother. That didn’t always work, and sometimes he’d find himself left with an angry Mordred. -one who was angry at everyone, but mostly at Arthur. Gawain knew what it was like to want your father to love you. King Lot hadn’t always been a good father, but he had been a good king, too. Sometimes, that was all that mattered.

The men sat on a log as they waited. Neither of them was sure whether they were waiting for food or for the witch. It turned out that the witch arrived first.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice mysterious and quiet.

“I didn’t know witches said stuff like ‘good morning’,” Arthur blurted. The witch rolled her eyes.

“I will just ignore that comment, since it’s too idiotic for me to reply to it,” She said, and she smiled at Gawain. Gawain chuckled, but quickly restrained himself into silence. “My second test will arrive soon. It will not be an easy one, and you will have to work together to get out of this forest.” Seconds later, she disappeared.

“Well, that won’t be much fun.” Gawain chuckled. He liked the witch; she was fun. Arthur glared at him. 

“Let’s just wait until we have food, and then head north afterwards.” After enjoying a nice rabbit, the men headed to the north side of the forest. Soon they saw a cave. “This must be Dead Man’s Cave,” Arthur speculated.

“Let’s get off our horses and go inside,” Gawain replied.

“Of course, Sir Gawain.”

“I can hardly see anything in here,” Gawain complained. 

“Neither can I,” Arthur replied curtly.

“My lord, I am sorry for offending you just then.”

“It’s alright.” Arthur smiled even though Gawain couldn’t see it.

“That gladdens me, my lord.” The pair walked on in silence.

“Watch out, it’s getting slippery here,” Gawain warned his king suddenly.

“Thanks for notifying me.” The air itself was damp as well, which made it very hard to stay focused. It would have pleased Arthur to take off his armour, but he knew he couldn’t. Gawain had trouble staying focused as well. He tried to look where he was going, but failed to do so at one point and slipped. Once again, the knight fell on his head. The impact was rather great, and he started to bleed.

“Gawain!” Arthur shouted. He rushed towards the knight and helped him sit up. Arthur knew that the warmth and the damp air wouldn’t help Gawain; he had seen enough of his men die in such conditions. There was a greater risk that the wound would become infected, and that was simply a risk Arthur couldn’t take. “We need to head back. Can you walk?” He asked.

“It’s just my head. My legs are fine.” Arthur helped his nephew stand, but noticed that Gawain’s ankle was swollen as well. Gawain tried to walk, but it proved to be too difficult.

“Just lean on me,” Arthur told him.

It took the pair ages to get out of the cave, and once they were outside the sunlight was too bright for them to bear. “Close your eyes,” Arthur ordered. Gawain obeyed silently. Arthur sat him down against a tree and hoped he would be able to find something to heal his nephew. “I am going to look for something to heal you, okay?”

“You need to get these leaves,” Gawain said, trying hard to remember the name. “They are quite big and some-sort of yellow color. Just bring them, I’ll know what to do.” He was nearly unconscious at that point, and Arthur realised that Gawain was a much better leader than he’d ever been at that age.

It didn’t take Arthur long to find the leaves. He took some extra leaves just to be sure. He showed them to Gawain. “Those are the right ones,” Gawain mumbled, “just press them into the wound.” Arthur did exactly as Gawain said while his nephew muttered an incantation.

“Did your mother teach you that?” Arthur asked.

Gawain shook his head. “Aunt Morgana did.” He said proudly. “She’s teaching Mordred now,” he said proudly. Arthur sighed sadly.

“I wish things were different,” he said. “Mordred would make a great king, he just happens to have been born wrongly.” Arthur let out another sigh. 

“They accepted your birth in the end.”

“Because there were no other heirs,” Arthur pointed out glumly.

“You are a good king, Arthur. You were meant to be king, and I think Mordred is meant to lead as well.”

“I have hopes for that boy,” Arthur agreed.

After awhile, Gawain lost consciousness again. Arthur could see that the knight had a fever, and that while the leaves and incantation had helped slightly, the problem wasn’t solved. Then the witch arrived. “You have a choice, Arthur, that’s your test,” She told him, with a sad look at Gawain. “You seek the healing cup of Sir Hengist, and you must choose who to use it on.” She looked down at Gawain again. “Will you choose an unborn heir, or your nephew’s health?” she asked, but before Arthur could say anything she was gone again. 

Arthur let out a sigh and walked away to check on the horses. It seemed that they had enough food and water. Arthur made the decision to go to Hengist’s castle, and he would take Gawain with him, unconscious or not. Arthur looked at his map. The cave was actually some sort of tunnel, which would have been useful had the conditions inside not been so awful. The other route that was pointed out on the map was longer, but also much safer.

Many days passed before Arthur and Gawain arrived at Sir Hengist’s castle. Gawain’s condition had worsened, and Arthur still needed to make a decision. It should’ve been easier. He wished he could just say, ‘I choose an heir,’ or ‘I choose my nephew.’ Arthur couldn’t choose so easily; he was the king, and he needed an heir. He also wanted nothing more than to have an heir of his own blood, even though Gawain was his family, too. Which meant a lot to Arthur, because he wasn’t just a king. He was also an uncle. 

Arthur managed to get Gawain into the castle. He then had to go back to the horses and get their supplies. “Arthur,” Gawain choked out, and now was obviously not the time for formality. “You have to choose your heir.”

Arthur touched his nephew’s face. “I also don’t leave men behind when I can help it,” he stated.

“An heir is more important,” Gawain mumbled, and then he lost consciousness again.

Arthur looked at his nephew and sighed. He then made his choice and started to look for the cup. It took him awhile, because the castle was like a labyrinth. Eventually he found it, though. He just needed to get back to Gawain.

“Arthur Pendragon.” He heard the witch’s voice, and moments later she appeared to him. “Did you make your choice?” she asked.

“I choose to heal Gawain,” Arthur said. “I can always make him or my son heir to the throne.”

The witch grinned. “You have passed my test. Go back to your nephew,” she said. Then she turned around. “You will be pleased with what you find.” She walked away. 

Arthur quickly made his way back to Gawain. He saw that his nephew had been healed. “It was the witch, wasn’t it?” Gawain asked. Arthur nodded.

“I have the cup. I meant to heal you with it. Apparently, that was the right decision.” He beamed. Gawain smiled back at him. “Let’s head back to Camelot.” 

“That’s a good idea.” The two men got on their horses and rode back. Arthur refused to go through the cave again, however. Gawain had laughed at him, but obeyed him nonetheless.

“I have a feeling I know the witch, though,” Gawain said when they were almost home.

“Really? Who do you think it was?” Arthur asked.

“Aunt Morgana.” Gawain smiled at his uncle. Arthur looked at his nephew with a small smile. The thought didn’t seem so strange to him. Just before they headed through the gates, Arthur looked at his nephew. “Titles are just for public use, all right?”

“All right,” Gawain replied with a smile. Then they were welcomed back by Camelot’s people. Things were looking well for the kingdom.


End file.
